Meanwhile in Heaven
by RemyMcKwakker
Summary: What life's like for John Winchester ... in Heaven. Set in Season 4. AU, since canonically, John isn't in Heaven.


**Title: **Meanwhile in Heaven  
**Author: **RemyMcKwakker**  
Rating: **PG**  
Word Count: **882**  
Summary: **What life's like for John Winchester ... in Heaven  
**Author's Notes: **Product of a sleepless night. Set somewhere in Season 4.  
**Excuse:** Remember the part about the sleepless night? So yeah, it's somewhat crack-ish ...  
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**Meanwhile in Heaven**

Sometimes John figures Hell was better than where he is now. Sure, Hell sucked, but at least he still had some of his dignity intact over there.

Here ... not so much.

He lets out a growl as his knee starts to itch. You'd think, what with Heaven and all, there'd be no physical discomfort. Apparently not. Okay, so nothing like cancer or AIDS or anything else, but the little things are more than enough to make up for it.

He sighs before beginning the laborious task of lifting his gown. It took him ten minutes last time; idly he wonders if he can break his own record.

Yes, _record_. John Winchester is known throughout Heaven for lifting his gown up to his knees in remarkably short periods of time. Ten minutes may not seem like a short time, but it's a hell of a lot (_hehe, Hell_) shorter than the three hours Saint Peter takes, and taking into account the fact that denim gowns in Heaven are loads heavier than denim on Earth (because there is no way in Hell - Heaven? - that John would wear _silk_).

When he has scratched his knee to his heart's content, he sits back on his couch. Almost immediately he straightens again with a yelp of pain - he forgot that squashed wings hurt more than trodden-on fingers.

"Damn it," he groans, then groans again at his choice of words. Damnation in Heaven? Yeah, there's irony for you.

When he has settled in a comfortable position with his wings gratefully unsquashed, he turns on the TV. He pauses for a bit at ANN (Angel News Network), but there's nothing interesting apart from that baby angel who got famous by biting his mother's fingers off and feeding them to a Hell Hound. HBO (Heaven Box Office) is showing a movie about a girl who discovers her real name is Snowbell and she's a reincarnation of that crazy cat from _Stuart Little_.

John snorts; that cat had always creeped Dean out, while Sam had adored it.

He changes the channel to sports; the football match between Hell's Angels and Charlie's Angels is boring, so he turns the TV off. He reaches up a hand to scratch his head, but hits something metallic that makes him curse (in Heaven, curses come out of your mouth as flowers). The metallic thing is dislodged from its place and falls over his head, almost knocking him out.

John growls again. Friggin' halo. This is the smallest size available at American Angel, and the goldsmith is on holiday in the Canary Islands. He still hasn't returned, and so John is stuck with this freaking hula hoop.

Absently he wonders if he may find a fitting halo in the ladies' department - after all, Mary's halo fits her perfectly - but then Winchester pride kicks in. He is _not _going near any ladies' department. Besides, those halos are engraved with _flowers_.

He jumps violently when an angel randomly materializes next to him. These are a different type of angel - they're soldiers, and they have no sense whatsoever of subtlety, as John found out on his first day when one appeared right in his lap. In front of Mary. He still hasn't lived that down.

This angel he knows. "What?" he grumbles.

The angel sits down next to him without waiting for an invitation. "I met with your sons today," he says. "Sam Winchester is not happy."

John sighs. No news there, but he asks anyway. "Why?"

The angel spares him a sidelong look. "Because Dean Winchester replaced all his food with slices of cow."

"Slices of cow?" John is confused. Where would Dean get a cow from?

"They eat it, or Dean does anyway," the angel says.

"Beef!" bursts out John, relieved. He thought there was some major angsting going on between his sons - thankfully not, at least for now. He can just picture Sam throwing a fit about the cholesterol from the red meat clogging his arteries, and then he'd die of a heart attack and wouldn't Dean like that?

John cannot help but grin. Dean will be devastated if red meat really does kill his only family. It would be a betrayal of sorts for him.

The angel gives him an odd look, before saying, "You can see it for yourself, it's airing on AXN."

John nods. "Thanks."

The angel stands. "Oh, and Dean keeps calling me 'Cas'. My name is Castiel."

John stifles a laugh, then smiles as he recalls this endearing habit. "He has nicknames for people close to him," John explains. "Like how he insists on calling Sam 'Sammy'."

The angel looks confused. It is the first expression John has seen on that sculpted face. Then he shakes his head, as if to clear his thoughts. And he is gone in the blink of an eye.

John switches the TV back on and goes to AXN. They are still showing _Criss Angel Mindfreak_ reruns. John knows for a fact that many people in Heaven object to the guy calling himself 'Angel'. He is nothing like them.

The show ends, and a little bar flits across the top of the screen_. Next: Epic Earthly Fights_.

John grins, and enjoys watching his boys arguing like the idiots he remembers and loves.

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